Blood Rising
by Qilin
Summary: It all began with that burst of adrenaline to save his Godfather from the Veil.  It went downhill from there. AU at the end of fifth year. Independent!Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: _We own nothing._Though I did purchase Neverafternon's eyebrows from a gypsy. For the most part, this will be a word baby produced by the two of us. Don't be surprised if it ventures into crackish waters.

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**Blood Rising**

**A Change in the Winds**

**I**

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Harry Potter felt like someone had taken a wand and scrambled his insides with a well placed disemboweling curse. His head pounded with unformed thoughts and sensations as adrenaline roared though his body. Sirius tipped toward the Veil, and Bellatrix screamed like a harpy with success every second his godfather slipped toward the arch. Harry saw all too clearly the stunned look on his godfather's face as he fell towards the Veil. Confused and puzzled– as though he could not fathom how a psychotic bitch had managed to get the best of him– Sirius fell toward the Veil like he was already dead and gone.

Harry heard whispers and words he could not quite understand, and in that moment he realized he was angry. Voldemort and his batch of merry sociopathic henchmen had taken everything from him. Everything he'd ever loved and cared for. They'd taken his mother and his father, his _life,_and his clear and unblemished forehead. That damn scar had caused ninety percent of the crap in his life he had dealt with since his first step years ago into Diagon Alley. Now they were going to take Sirius, the only family he had left, the only person to offer him some semblance of a home.

His eyes met Voldemort's across the room. Oh hell no. No one offs the dogfather.

He couldn't say later how he'd managed to move that fast. He honestly couldn't say he'd moved at all. But somehow he managed to get to his godfather in mere seconds; he flew across the room like a small comet and bowled over several Death Eaters in the process. By the amount of swear words, he must have smashed a foot or two in his mad dash to save his godfather from entering the deathly curtain. Harry viciously hoped he had crushed more than a few toes; that would teach them not to wear expensive elf-made, silk-lined slippers in a brawl. That lovely pain filled soprano that was pitched above the others could be none other than Mr. Malfoy. He should know, Draco squealed just like it.

Sirius had already lost his left arm to the Veil by the time Harry had gotten to him. He quickly grabbed two fistfuls of his godfather's filthy robe and heaved backward. No way in hell was this happening again, not if he had anything to say about it. He was done having his life shit on whenever Voldemort felt particularly dastardly. He was fed up with the entire ordeal. In fact, when he looked back at the situation he was in – playing tug-of-war with an inanimate object – he could not help but believe that his life had to be the plot of some badly written dime store novel. It wouldn't be too hard to imagine. The Veil might not have be as innocuous he originally had thought; he could swear it moaned as it gave a few hearty tugs he felt through his hapless godfather stuck in the middle.

Harry straightened and pulled for all he was worth. Not only was this the shittiest day of his life, it was also the most ridiculous. Not only had he single handedly brought about near destruction on his friends and allies, but he was in a dirty tug-of-war with a freaking curtain.

The image of what he looked like, tugging on the arm of what might have looked like a homeless man to an ordinary muggle – against a ghostly piece of drapery, seemed quite close to what had happened on some of those soaps his aunt would watch in the middle of the afternoon. There was even an amusing musical accompaniment of profanity in the background, provided by a bunch of squealing wizards. It fit quite well as Sirius had gone limp; a glazed expression with an addition of drool dripping down his scruffy chin. While that would have amused Harry to no end, the whimpers and moans that came from the man had him grossed out. Creepy and unnecessary. What the hell was that stupid curtain even _doing_ to Sirius? This needed to end now.

He tugged to the left; the Veil yanked back. Harry planted his feet on the stone dais the Veil was set upon he pulled as hard as he could. Sirius' body inched slowly towards him, like he weighed hundreds and hundreds of pounds instead of the mere 160 that his exile at prison and Grimmauld Place had reduced him to. Harry grunted. The Veil did not want to lose its prize.

By this time Sirius had started to wriggle a bit. Obviously, whatever state he was currently in, the man found being tugged by both arms less than comfortable. His eyes popped open and lost that vague and slightly stupid expression Sirius had finally realized that he had become the taunt rope between two opposing forces. Harry idly wondered what the hell was going on around him; no Order members were offering help, and no Death Eaters were attempting to kill him while he was busy.

Harry dug his heels in and bellowed; Sirius' arm, covered in gelatinous slime, finally slid free of the whispering fabric with a wet '_squeelch_'. Harry had not expected the sudden release of tension; they fell to the ground at a roll, where he found himself pinned by his godfather.

Sirius moaned and looked around with a dazed expression, eyes roving around until they met Harry's face."I think I reached Nirvana."

"Sirius, _get up_, you're flattening me!" Harry shrieked, He jerked his body forward in an attempt to remove Sirius' boot from places it did not belong.

"There may have been tentacles," Sirius blankly stated to the empty ground a foot to the right of Harry's head, "I'm not exactly sure."

Harry's panicked attempts to remove himself from pain upset the slight stability his Godfather had gained in balance when the man had shakily attempted to stand. Harry ended up with his face in the man's under arm.

He choked. Sirius' robes smelled like old people, death, and mothballs.

A small part of his brain not wholly focused on the battle, muttered that it was what he got for allowing Sirius to be kept in what surely was meant to be a place of evil. Especially if the House of Black seriously lacked some kind of clothes laundering device.

Bellatrix shrieked something unintelligible, and Harry felt the hot sting of a spell shoot past them where it shattered on the wall with a muffled explosion.

"Ickle baby Potter has a boo boo, does he want a binkie before beddy-time? Is he bwoken into itsy- bitsy num-nums?" Bellatrix babbled amidst the clash of Order members and Death Eaters.

Sirius scrambled off Harry and stepped on him before he tore after his mad relative. Harry stumbled to his feet and glared at the Veil, who rustled its curtains at him in a mournful manner. It wasn't perfect but it was a start, Harry smiled through the pounding pain. He had a feeling like he'd dodged some giant cosmic bullet, and that somehow things were going to go differently.

"_Confringo!_"

The spell caught him in the shoulder and knocked him straight into a wall, dislocating the arm that hit first. The Veil sent out a tendril towards him when Harry shot by, in an attempt to defile him. Harry found himself joined by Remus when he regained consciousness after his wall smash.

"Geroff," Harry muttered as he shoved at the werewolf. His eyes frantically roved the battle field for a glimpse of his wayward godfather.

Lupin jabbed him with his wand. "You'll sit here while I pop your shoulder back and watch for incoming spellfire."

"_Nergh!_ I'm fine! Leave off!"

"I think not Harry. Some of your ribs are bruised if not cracked," Remus said after he swished his wand in a clockwise figure eight. "It was too short notice for me to grab any pain potions, you are going to have to wait until a better healer arrives. So either you sit there and behave, or I'll sit on you."

Harry sighed. Remus took that as compliance and began to rummage through his pockets as muttered something about chocolate.

Harry's stomach roiled and his face turned green at the thought of ingesting anything but a pain potion. Even if they did taste like mold gym socks – but the pain that spread outward from his shoulder begged for relief. He refocused back on the battle that took place around the nook in the broken wall Harry had smacked into and caught the form of Sirius. His godfather had better survive or Harry would– Harry would turn to dark magic, raise his godfather, and kill the man once more. Damn, Harry felt exhausted.

He watched from his spot near the wall as Sirius turned into his black dog form and worried at Bellatrix's mutilated corpse. Harry wished he could have seen the spell that had caused that; all he had to go on currently was that Sirius might have mauled her to death in human form.

A loud bang drew his attention, and many of the Order's, to Voldemort who now dueled his nemesis on the center of the floor. Dumbledore spun like a dervish coated in a whirl of silver fire and lightning; the headmaster sent out spell after spell. Spells Harry had no name for but that the boy vowed to learn from here on out. No longer was he going to sit in the shadows –and always be a day late and a dollar short. _No more_. '_Yes'_ Harry had decided woozily as the pain and possible blood loss went to his head. Harry would out smart Voldemort's minions, and he would do it with style, he would no longer depend on luck alone.

His eyes slid from Ginny and Hermione lying unconscious, to Neville taking deep shuddering breaths while trying to get the muscle spasms left over from the cruciatus curse under control. He would protect them better, he vowed to himself. He would learn, and he would win. Together they would succeed.

"Sirius should really stop eating his cousin; while I'm slightly worried about any future jobs he could possibly get with cannibalism now added to his record, he'll probably get rabies or something from eating her." Remus muttered around a mouthful of chocolate.

They both sat on the cold stone as the battle grew quiet, Order members quickly incapacitating any Death Eaters still on the scene of the battle. He'd done his bit and the battle was won.

The last thing Harry recalled from the battle other than the crunch of candy as Remus continued to eat his bar of chocolate was the sound of Fudge's high pitched squeal as he sighted Voldemort's pale face as the dark lord left the battle. The smell of smooth milk chocolate floated in the air, melding into the odors ozone and magically melted and charred rubble.

Everything faded to black.

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_TBC_

_A/N- Urk. That needed a lot of editing. It flows a bit better now, and because this is on my account, I think I'll give myself commanding power over its future. - Qilin_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _We own nothing._

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**Blood Rising**

_Dark Days Have Been Here For a While_

_II_

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_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

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"Potter!"

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_Thump._

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The door to Harry's cramped little room at number four Privet Drive banged open and ricocheted off of the wall. The door handle left a nice, fist sized dent in the ugly grey wallpaper. Harry spared a slight twinge at the sight of the hole; he knew he would be the one forced to patch it later.

"Potter! What the- what the bloody hell are you doing?" Uncle Vernon surged into the room and wobbled back, like a whale pulled by the tide. Harry casually caught the pink rubber ball he'd been bouncing off of the wall between his room and Dudley's.

"You said, and I quote, 'Stay in your room, Freak, I can't stand to look at you at the moment. I'll let you out when I'm feeling up to dealing with the messes you cause.' It has been three days. I'm bored," Harry said in a bland tone. He tossed the ball into the air and caught it before it entered his field of view.

Aunt Petunia's shrill voice rang up the stairwell. "Vernon! That damn ball shook loose Gran Mildred's portrait! Get him down here!"

Harry grinned. Excellent. That portrait had been a sore spot for the last few days, Aunt Petunia bought it at an antique auction and the damn thing's flat painted eyes seemed to follow him around the room. He hoped the painting was ruined. It wouldn't have surprised him if it had turned out to be a magic painting that with a worn off enchantment. He could easily picture the pale lady with razor sharp eyes bellowing its painted lungs out about mudbloods, traitors and infidels. Pure blood fascists, the lot of them. If he'd been able to stand staying in this hell hole, he would have the enchantment would have kicked back in under a month. Harry wondered if it would a portrait coming to life would fall under Mr. Weasley's domain.

He couldn't help a grin when he thought of some of the paintings at Grimmauld Place spelled silent and auctioned off to muggles. Oh, yes. Harry would make sure to mention this particular idea if the portrait of Sirius' mum acted up as usual. It would be a good present for his godfather. Though, he needed to get the man back for dumping him in the middle of battle and chasing single mindedly after Bellatrix. Uncle Vernon's spluttering drew his attention. The man was rapidly getting over his initial shock and working himself up into a towering rage.

Uncle Vernon choked, then spat "Potter, I will not suffer this infernal-"

Harry blinked, and then barred his teeth. Suffering was he? He briefly entertained the idea of showing his uncle a little taste of what _suffer_ could mean. But no, there was a reason he was different from Voldemort. Choices, choices. Choices meant his miserable family wasn't a steaming pile of goo on the floor, and choices meant that Voldemort had to be defeated the hard way: through goodness and right decisions. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't voice his opinions about the bullshit his uncle was spouted between the fat man's thrashing and spitting. Harry's temper, which bubbled so close to the surface these days, sparked. "Infernal what? What exactly are you suffering? Do you even know what's going on? There is a wizard out there who doesn't care a jot about you or your fragile perfect life."

"_Oh yes!_ We know all about the Notorious Dark _Wizard_ Sirius Black!" Uncle Vernon bellowed into the room like a walrus prepared for a harem battle.

Harry's temper flared at his godfather being called a dark wizard by his uncle of all things. He knew his family was that dense, but all the same he rose to the bait. Harry's green eyes narrowed to slits as he murmured, "You're a muggle, what would you know of it?"

"That bloody bird of yours wouldn't leave Dudley alone until he took that scribbled on rag she was carrying! His face is all slashed up– we are charging you for his medical bills!" Vernon said with his flabby chin raised.

Harry failed to see how that pertained to Sirius, but his nerves were already firing in anger. Harry whipped out his wand from beneath his pillow and held it to his Uncle's quivering and sweaty third chin.

"Bring me that paper, _now_."

White as a sheet of parchment, Vernon quickly jiggled though the hallway like Aunt Petunia's chilled Christmas pudding. Minus the holly and mint leaves. Two minutes later, and covered in perspiration, Uncle Vernon rammed a slightly soggy Daily Prophet into Harry's chest which jerked him an inch off the ground at the force.

Harry took a step back and ran his foot into the tiny desk stationed under the heavily re-barred window. He gave his Uncle a measured look before he quickly unfolded the newspaper and flicked a dried orange peel off the edge. The article which concerned his Godfather in glaring headlines could not wait, he would read it even with his uncle still in the room. Maybe he would decide to explode someone after all.

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**_THE NOTORIOUS SIRIUS BLACK INVADES THE MINISTRY: Potter valiantly defends!_**

**_by R. Skeeter_**

_Potter, the brave and gallant fourteen year old champion of the light smites again. In what could be seen as a ferocious battle at the ministry, many of Harry Potter's wizarding forces fell to the second greatest evil, Sirius Black._

_Black, the traitor of the Potter family was seen engaging the young revenge-seeking teen heartthrob in a powerful battle of wills. While their many supporters dueled around them Harry Potter fought alone against You-Know-Who's second in command. Black escaped killing many and inflicted the Boy- Who-Lived with a minor wound._

_After the battle, the boy-who-lived had this to say to the world, "One day I will destroy the new dark lord – The MOST Notorious Sirius Black and all of his cronies; his injustices will not go unpunished!"_

_And so the revenge seeking youth and his mob of school children – most notably made up of a horde of Weaslebees and one extremely hairy muggleborn, set out to accumulate more fame. Our hope goes with Harry Potter and we sincerely wish he does not met a terrible end by taking on more than he can swallow._

**_For more information on the Notorious Dark Lord – Sirius Black page 3. Secret True Life of the Boy-who-lived page 4. Is Dumbledore a Foolish Twit? Page 5_**

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Harry Potter stared at the words emblazoned across the page, along with a picture of himself sitting at the school lake. The view was spectacular, with the Whomping Willow in the distance fully in bloom and the sun sparkling on the water. Harry's miniature picture self, however, had hidden behind his massive transfiguration book in an attempt to duck Colin's camera flash.

He had an urge to go out to the garden and step on a few beetles, just to make himself feel better. The bug murdering mood would have to wait, however. As he flipped through the distasteful rag The Daily Prophet was rapidly becoming, just to see what the hell his 'Secret True Life' was –_Dear God, he hoped he wasn't unveiled as a girl. Or in love with Malfoy. Or the worst of all; in a lovers tryst with Snape and Umbridge. Ugh_– when he saw an ad that seemed oddly out of place as it hovered in the middle of an article titled "How to Wax Your Feet When You Don't Have Any"

The ad was in faded maroon and mustard yellow, just barely blending in with paper's color scheme of brown and black with a side of tea bags. It was the Product title taking up a third of the page that made him smirk.

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"**_PADFOOT'S APHRODISIAC – It could even help Prongs Junior get laid!"_**

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The writing beneath it was blurred to the point of illegibility except for the phase, "_Messrs Moony,_– here scratched out with the words '_die you bastard, die'_ in bright red – _Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present the"_

"Maurader's Map" Harry muttered following the familiar phrase. Black ink coalesced into the center of the blurred out area–

_"Who did I eat rats for, and who often shared my meal?"_

Realizing that only Sirius would send him a message in a sex ad; he rolled his eyes and stated, "Harry Potter and Buckbeak!"

The completed spell popped the paper blank and a new message rolled into place over the porno one. A picture of a large cartoonish panting dog and reluctant-looking long-legged wolf appeared on the page with speech bubbles.

_Hey Harry, looks like the only notches my bed post will be gaining anytime soon will be Slytherins! How much boom-boom do you think I'll get?_

Gross. The scratches on Seamus' old headboard took on a whole new meaning. Now he knew which bed the Irish kid had been unfortunate enough to inherit. At least the house elves cleaned the fleas out.

_Don't write things like that! He's young and impressionable! What would James say?_The top blurb rapidly scribbled by the wolf in Remus' handwriting.

_He'd probably join in._The Dog made a barking motion.

_True, but Lily would kill you both._The wolf curled his tail around his paws the way Crookshanks would when he got his way.

_Harry! When you gonna come home to me? I miss you and my arm's all wonky but no one believes meee!_Harry could almost hear Sirius whining this.

_Don't tell him to come here! Dumbledore hasn't approved it yet!_

_So? He can come here anytime;, if Dumbledore throws a big fit I'll set Kreature on him; Mum might accept me as her son again._

_Fine, fine. It's not like the two of you ever listen to reason anyway; Harry! I'll just pretend I don't see you until someone else discovers your new hiding place._A paw reached up and covered the wolf's eyes while turning its head to the side.

_See Moony misses you too! Hope to see you soon!_Both animals waved.

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Harry ripped out the page with dialog, placed it safely in his pocket and began to pace the room. Uncle Vernon watched his nephew warily while mopping his brow, certain that the little cretin had gone bonkers. He didn't want to startle the freak into casting any of his unnatural m-m-...he didn't want to even say the word. Saying it might make it come true. Harry paid him no mind as he continued to wear a metaphorical hole in the carpet.

He'd had a revelation, and the simplicity of it ate at him.

"I've realized something," he said, more to himself than to his uncle, "Voldemort's got the right idea, skewed vision ultimately, but the right idea. I'm tired of not being able to protect people, watching my friends almost die. I led them into a _trap_."

Harry stopped and jabbed a finger at Uncle Vernon, who shrank back like it was a smoking gun instead of his nephew's slightly chewed pointer.

"You," he snarled, "You have held me here as a prisoner each summer, I've had a rotten childhood and I have lain here and taken it. Year after year I have taken your cruelty and your psychosis because of the fact that Aunt Petunia's presence hides me from Voldemort. I'm done with it. I'll take my chances with a guardian who actually cares about me, rather than people who treat me like shit on the bottom of their shoes."

Harry tossed his things into his trunk, moving around the room like a man crazed. Uncle Vernon watched him, his mouth moving but no sound came out. His eyes watched Harry snatch books off of his bookshelves and toss clothes into his trunk. The already bare room didn't take long to empty out. Harry supposed it was lucky that his relatives hated magic so much; all his stuff was already packed. Harry sat on his trunk and the brass snaps clicked into place. Harry left the once second room of his now scratched up– he'd have to thank Hedwig for that– cousin. Entering the hallway shoving past the form of his Uncle, he raised his wand and shot down a fly skittering on the wall, leaving a small black crater. Stupid Bugs. Stupid Rita Skeeter.

Common pest charms and lights did not register as a misuse of magic; after last summer Hermione had made him read the Do's and Don'ts of allowed under age practicing. There wasn't much allowed; but both lights and pest neutralizers required an insignificant amount of magic that went undetectable. He'd memorized that list carefully. Like building bombs with the excess crap in a superstore, he could probably use the bare magic spells to weave greater enchantments. Focused towards liquefying bugs of course.

Harry shot a few more craters on the walls for good measure as he was followed by his surprisingly docile Uncle to the front door. The magic he was doing must be '_putting the fear of Merlin'_ in Uncle Vernon. Brilliant.

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"Goodbye Uncle Vernon."

Vernon watched Harry Potter walk out of the house and stand at the corner of the street. The boy studied his watch until it struck seven; the grandfather clock gonged in the living room confirming it. Harry stuck out his wand and with a loud _'Bang'_ a flaming purple bus screeched to a halt. All that ran through Vernon's shining sweaty head was 'What will the neighbors think?'

Harry maneuvered his trunk onto the bus with the help of the pimply attendant, turned, and presented number 4 Privet Drive with his extended middle finger. Then he turned and the bus doors slammed closed. Harry Potter and his unnatural exit were gone.

Unseen by Harry's uncle, a werewolf illusioned as shrubbery across the street pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

Vernon Dursley was left standing in an empty and shabby room wondering what the hell had just happened. _Disappeared like magi– damn! Who knew what calamity that could bring?_Vernon smiled. Finally his life was freakless!

Or so he thought until Dudley, face bandages and all, hopped out of a blue Volkswagen, and kissed the green haired and scantily clad female driver.

Dudley waved as she sped off going fifty in a thirty mile an hour zone before he turned to his father and said, "I have a girlfriend now! She likes my bandages!"

As Dudley went into the house Vernon cursed the fact that his life never seemed destined to be surrounded by only normal people.

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TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _We own nothing._

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**Blood Rising**

_Lucy in the Basement_

_III_

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The Knight Bust barfed him up in front number 12 Grimmauld Place in the wee hours of the early morning. He couldn't fathom why the trip had taken so long this time; it wasn't like Little Winging was worlds away. Harry painstakingly untangled himself from his luggage while the house unfolded itself from the apartments on either side. When Stan had ejected him and his stuff from the bus, he'd done it Potter first and heavy trunk second.

When Harry's face had met the cool pavement, the trunk had landed on his ass half a second later.

He scrambled out from underneath it, trying not to get himself any more flattened than he already was. He straightened and poked at the wounded areas, and winced as he felt a bruise forming on his cheek. Ugh, what a day. Uncle Vernon was an asshole, his trunk was dented, and his face felt like it had been hit with a cast iron frying pan. He was starting to think that the Knight Bus crew had it out for him as he got shafted every time he used their services.

Harry shook a fist in the general direction the Knight Bus had zoomed off in.

Tossers.

As an underage wizard, it was a good way to travel and it was relatively cheap; not too surprising that the service could be arse over head once in a while. He sighed and shook out his over large shirt.

He dragged his stuff up the stairs, reached for the door handle, then decided he'd better knock. Harry was not sure if any new enchantments had been added and he was not interested in a the loss of a limb due to poor manners when entering an old magic infused house. Ron had warned him once about magic seeping into the everyday items; when Harry had commented that it sounded like an old Disney movie, Ron had gotten dead serious and said that was exactly what could happen. The Blacks had protected their property with an almost scary ferocity, and he doubted that the Order had failed to match it. He would not be surprised if either group had helped the ambient magic of the house sink in a bit more for added protection.

Harry knocked, deftly avoiding the snake knocker at head height that hissed menacingly. He was glad he had decided to knock, after his lovely vacation in the Chamber of Secrets, he had grown slightly wary of snakes. Especially ones that were not alive. It made little sense to him, but whenever he moved past a carving or a painting of any kind of serpent, he could almost feel it watching him.

His hand had barely left the door before it was flung open, stagnant air rushed past him like a monstrous beast exhaling. The knocker hissed in pain and cussed out the person who had thrown the door open so quickly.

"Harry darling!" A voice shouted loud enough that it echoed down the dreary, empty street.

So much for Sirius hiding as a fugitive, his current fashion would broadcast his presence like a huge 'Look at me!' beacon.

Harry did a double-take at the form in the doorway and stared, mouth dropping open and moving, nothing coming out.

Sirius Black stood in the doorway, draped in the most ridiculous green robe harry had ever seen. A gold monocle enlarged his left eye to the size of a golf ball and a red top hat with a peacock feather bigger than Harry's head dangled like a limp palm frond. It was a style that Dumbledore himself would have been most proud of. Sirius looked like an ugly Christmas tree on psychedelic drugs.

"Um," Harry blinked and swallowed, as he tried to get his staring under control and failing miserably, "Sirius do we need to talk?"

"Always," Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and flicked his wand, Harry's trunk levitated up the stairs and into the dark doorway.

"Bu..wha.." Harry bemusedly gestured wildly at Sirius' body.

"So," Sirius said not noting his godson's hands flailing about, "Got tired of your Aunt and Uncle's tender mercies?"

Harry tore his gaze away from his Godfather's blindingly colorful apparel and finally looked him in the face. For a split second he had a niggling feeling that he had dodged a cosmic bullet, and that he should not be standing at the doorway to Grimmauld Place looking at his Godfather– very much alive and essentially in drag.

He didn't know what he would have done without Sirius. That tussle in the Department of Mysteries could have gone so differently, so much worse. Sirius had come so close to dying. They all had.

He would never risk anyone he cared about like that again. He was done losing people. The sight of his Godfather further firmed that fact. No more close calls.

Harry lurched forward and hugged Sirius, in a very manly way, around the shoulders. A moment of stunned silence passed, then Sirius's arms came around him and he hugged Harry back tightly.

"What's up kid," Sirius asked softly.

"I don't know," Harry mumbled, "I don't...know."

Sirius patted him on the head. "There there, come inside and we'll feed you."

"We?"

Sirius nodded, dragging Harry inside, and said by way of explanation, "Remus has chocolate."

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The inside of number 12 Grimmauld Place was just as dark and depressing as Harry remembered. The gloom, however, did not seem to seep into his skin as it had the first time he had entered. Sirius seemed not to notice it and Harry found he wasn't angry and irritated anymore. He had no idea how to take that, so he shrugged and continued to follow Sirius down the hallway past the portraits that slept in their frames.

They tromped into the kitchen where they found Remus at the table focused on the Daily Prophet where he occasionally jabbed his wand at a massive pan of meatballs, pasta, cheese, and marinara sauce sautéing. Judging from the amount of smoke sucked up into a glass ball above the stove, his wand was the only thing that kept the entire cooking operation from combusting into an inferno.

Not knowing where the dishes were and too lazy to ask, Harry helped himself to the cupboards because he figured he would run into them eventually. Kreacher was having a conniption because Harry was touching his stuff**, **and Harry refused to consider the idea that he was taking extra time to find the dishes in order to see how long it'd take to drive the house elf nuts.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Sirius said, pointing a pasta laden spoon at him, "some of them cups bite."

"Seriously?"Harry looked over at his godfather in surprise, apparently Ron really was serious.

Sirius got a wolfish grin on his face and opened his mouth to say something. Remus, wisely scenting the danger of an age old joke that had long since run its course, raised his wand and said, "Accio chocolate!". He quickly dispelled whatever had a appeared in front of him into Sirius' jaw.

Immediately a chocolate bar roughly the size and shape of a baby Blast Ended Skrewt rammed itself into Sirius's open mouth. The older man choked as he struggled to swallow the entire whole. It was rather like watching a snake try to unhinge its jaw to eat a larger animal, only Sirius failed miserably at the whole jaw unhinging thing. Harry's godfather did not give up at that point. Ultimately, he partially transformed into his animagus form and swallowed it during his change.

Remus watched the entire thing with a pale face before he covered his mouth with a hand. Harry figured his ex-professor would never banish food into the other man's mouth for a long while**. **

Harry found a massive golden goblet studded with emeralds and silver filigree arranged to form the Black family crest and chose that to be the carrier of his dinner, much to Kreacher's disappointment.

"Perhaps Master's honored guest would choose another?" he asked, and under his breath he muttered, "Dirty Dumbledore Suck up, fouling Mistresses treasures. Wish it would bite him. Wish it would poison him."

"Enough of that, you idiotic cretin!" Sirius shouted as he chucked one of his boots at the elf. Thank god Hermione wasn't here. Remus wrinkled his nose.

"Must you do that? He is stuck here with you after all."

"That's what you think. I know how family elves are passed down, he'll be gone by the end of summer." Sirius smirked. Behind his back the demented elf grimaced with a wide open mouth filled with snaggleteeth.

Harry held Kreacher's eyes, than gave the goblet a good lick. Kreacher screamed bloody murder and was soundly punted into another room by his master, missing the goblet's heavy golden handle latch on to Harry's tongue.

"Outch! Eggo muh thongue!" Harry garbled as he danced in place.

With a roll of Remus's eyes and another swish of his wand the goblet released Harry's tongue along with a fair amount of drool.

"Ew," Harry muttered, wiping the goblet off with his sleeve and dodging its little pointed teeth.

"And that," Sirius said, giving the smoking pot a good stir, "is why we don't lick weird things."

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In the weeks to come, Harry found himself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity as Sirius and Remus quickly renovated Grimmauld place into a more livable home. He laughed when Remus explained why he was painting Sirius' bedroom a bright green.

"He's colorblind you know. It quite upsets him." Remus continued to slap green painted on the wall.

"If he doesn't like green then–"

"I'm a bit angry at him. Besides, he won't notice the difference unless he checks it with a spell."

"There's a color checking spell?" Harry asked from the doorway.

"Oh, yes. He and Regulus used to change the colors in each other's rooms. I remember one year where both came to Hogwarts dressed in the opposite house color. They had both changed each other's colors before getting off the train and hadn't bothered to check their own! Sirius was a green Gryffindor that night."

Harry laughed again and helped Remus finish the room.

Admittedly, he was curious about something and it seemed like a good time to ask.

"Remus?"

"Yes, Harry?" He turned to his helper who had green paint smudged under one eye.

"Why haven't I seen the Order? This is still headquarters right?"

"Yes and no. Many Order members have been busy since the beginning of summer. It's been a month since then. Tonks has shown up a few times, but…we are specifically not to tell you why." Remus' mouth twitched at that but Harry wasn't quite sure why.

"Wait. They know I'm here? Dumbledore said I had to stay with the Dursleys!" He was pissed if it turned out he didn't need to. The floor got a liberal dose of green paint.

"Yes well. That was the original plan. But something rather disastrous has happened and much of the Orders business is taking place at the foot of his bed in the infirmary." Remus hesitated before dipping the paintbrush into paint once more.

"Dumbledore's injured?" His paintbrush fell with a wet splat, coating part of the bed and the floor in lime paint.

"He put on a cursed object, so let that be a lesson to you. Its headmaster by the way. Thank Merlin Snape is on our side, no one else knew what to do when Albus showed up in dire straits." Behind Remus' back Harry made a face.

"Anyway," Remus continued on, oblivious to Harry's antics, "The Order knew you were gone the next day by your lack of outdoor chores, and Sirius was always a horrible liar."

"That's good to know." Never tell his godfather a secret.

The two painted in a companionable silence and Sirius' room was soon as green as freshly cut grass.

"He can't stay here in this house all year; he'll go mad. Madder." Harry said as they examined their work. Green paint sloshed about the room; it covered part of the bed, some floor and a few of the rugs. Good thing they weren't paid to paint it.

"We know. In fact, Dumbledore has come up with a plan that should appease the both of you. And before you ask, I can't tell. Just know that, it will be a good change. Maybe." He seemed a bit undecided on the last part.

Deciding not to jump down Remus' throat for not giving up everything he knew like Harry would have in past years, he decided to go with it. While he might have been more suspicious of Dumbledore's machinations, Harry figured that as long as he prepared himself for the general situations he might wind up in, he had a higher chance of surviving.

For the past month he had been working on that, or at least reading through spells and practicing a few motions for when school came along. When he could get Sirius and Remus to duel, he did and Harry found their explanations for certain spells used to be hilarious and thought provoking. Remus tended to use charms as his main bulk of castings, while Sirius focused more on transfiguration. Both were extremely different methods of fighting and, if Harry thought he could pull it off he would lean more toward transfiguration; it seemed more fluid and unpredictable to him.

"Becoming an animagus is what changed everything for me; one must understand the majority of ideas behind transfiguration just to change form from animal and back. You don't have a wand at this point. Once we had discovered our forms and all three of us were miraculously able to perform it, the class became easy as cake."

Food for thought. If he could become a fast bird, or something that would be pretty helpful for evading Death Eaters, he would definitely give it a try.

As the days passed, the house became much more inhabitable, faded lights were replaced with new infused magic lamps and candles. Snobbish portraits disappeared one by one as Sirius took Harry up on his idea. Every portrait was sealed into an unmoving silence and taken to a muggle auction by Remus. Sirius laughed the entire time they spelled the first portrait as he said "A better hell for these hateful people I would never have been able to devise!"

In the middle of July, while Remus and Sirius worked on clearing the more nasty objects out of the attic, Harry figured he would take a peek into some of the lower level rooms, to see what needed to be fixed. He could hear muffled noise from one of the doors at the end of the hall, Harry was pretty sure it led down into the basement. He grabbed his wand just in case some sort of monster laid in wait on the other side of the door, screw the consequences of improper use, and swung the door open. In the room and down a few steps, sat Lucius Malfoy gagged and bound to a chair while a muggle stereo blared off 'Killer Queen'.

_What the fuck?_ Harry thought as he gaped at the scene.

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_TBC…_

_A/N – wow, it's been a while! We got some fun plans, which should end up rather entertaining when we finally get to them._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: still don't own.

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**Blood Rising**

_The Obligatory Shopping Chapter_

_IV_

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Sirius, we need to have that talk." Harry said as he sank into the black leather of the couch, idly swatting at the plug end of the lamp that was inching its way across the back of the couch.

"Which talk is this?" Sirius said from the floor, his focus solely on the thing he was fiddling with.

"The one where I ask you why Mr. Malfoy is tied up in the basement." Harry busied himself with folding the struggling lamp cord; shouting at Sirius never got answers out of him.

Like baiting a fearful dog he had to have an air of nonchalant about him to get what he wanted. Harry waited.

"Ah. That is a rather interesting story." Sirius said lightly. He continued to polish the cane in his hands that Harry only belatedly realized belong to Mr. Malfoy.

"And?" Harry asked. Part of the cord wrapped around his wrist and the bulb crackled as if angry.

"Just look at him." Sirius gestured behind himself, presumably at the basement.

"I did."

Sirius just nodded in satisfaction as if this plainly would solve everything.

"And?" Harry prompted.

"What?" Sirius asked, forehead scrunched– showing wrinkles developed far beyond his age.

Harry just looked at him, hoping to get the message across.

"He's so happy in his natural environment. He's become part of the decor." Sirius added before hefting the cane up in the light and examining the shine.

"In the basement? Why?" Harry could think of a hundred better locations to keep him; one being the bottom of the ocean.

"Because. We picked him up just as he was leaving Azkaban on 'good behavior'. I'm rather curious to know just how much good behavior costs." Sirius said slamming the head of the cane harshly down on the floor, chipping it.

"That does not explain why he is here. In the basement."

"Where else would one put a Malfoy?" Sirius asked bewilderedly with a smug smile.

_How about a volcano?_ Harry thought unrepentantly.

"Somewhere without access to a rather devious house elf perhaps?" Said Harry; it wasn't polite to mention the possible murder of another person when supposed to be fighting on the side of good; but it felt so good thinking about it. Harry flinched when the end of the cane came close to a rather easily injured spot.

His godfather seemed to be going through a set of conniptions while trying to hold his breath.

Sirius's body shivered and quaked before the dam was broke loose and he let out a series of mad cackles close to that of his recently devoured cousin. The lamp hissed in fright and dove into a corner almost ripping off Harry's fingers when the plug pulled out of his hands.

He wagged them in the air, wincing at the stinging feeling. He turned to his mad godfather rolling on the floor.

Tonks was lucky the black family madness curse seemed to have skipped her unless it was something one developed into like an aged wine. In any case, he hoped it wasn't catchable, but then, Lupin would have shown some signs of it years ago. Harry himself was likely to stay sane as well; though he flinched when the laughing grew louder.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, you were sleeping in that morning. Kreature 's not part of the house's staff anymore." Sirius giggled from the hardwood floor. The rug whimpered from where it sat impaled by the end table.

"Really?"

"I bet they've made him useful," Sirius mumbled to the air. He laughed freely again. "And! And their feud with the Malfoys makes it impossible for him to speak to any one allied to the Malfoy family or of their blood. Harry, this was. The best trade ever." Sirius held himself while he rolled about on the floor.

Harry mulled this over and decided to skip the part about Kreature for now.

"Won't the Malfoys know he's missing? The ministry? Someone?" It blew his mind that such a closed knit group of people seemed so careless and accepting of people missing.

"Oh. I wouldn't worry about that."

"Why wouldn't you worry about that?" Scenarios rushed through Harry's mind most of them ending up in the outing of the Order to the general magic public or people dying all over the place due to one of Voldemort's favorite toys having gone missing.

"Who's the adult here? You're supposed to trust me." Sirius said with a cherubic smile gracing his face.

Harry just looked at him. That kind of face couldn't work on normal – sane people. Behind it lurked the devil of mischief.

The longer he held the face, the more Harry began to believe that Sirius was actually trying to pull rank on him, and Harry sputtered.

The façade broke. "Hahaha. I'm just screwing with you. There's been a fill in. Harry – wipe the worry from your face. Our Lucius is in sight of our people around the clock. Not to mention the public eye."

He grinned and rubbed his hands together as if warming them or planning mischief; obviously the latter to anyone who had met the man for more than a few minutes.

"Mark my words Harry, you will have a lot of fun this year. I will have a lot of fun this year." His eyes glazed over and Harry had a funny feeling that Sirius was father out there than normal.

At least his Godfather seemed to be having a good time though.

Rather than question the man high on – _mischief planning?_ What he meant, and how the Order planned on faking the Dark mark, Harry busied himself with his school list. The list itself had appeared the day before when it was coughed out of the fireplace.

This year was going to be different and he was looking forward to it. He always looked forward to Hogwarts.

He flipped over the parchment paper and unfolded it, taking note of McGonagall's sweeping cursive.

Harry was quite surprised to see that towards the bottom of his list, the purchase of a potions text was included; he wondered if McGonagall had got him in it or if circumstances had changed. The underlined additional words made him think that she had fulfilled the promise she had made while arguing with Umbridge; 'Mandatory! – do not make a fool of me Mr. Potter! Study well for this class!'

Harry smiled when he refolded the list.

This year was going to be different. A question niggled at the back of his mind. He looked down at Sirius fiddling with a rook piece the couch had coughed up, cane abandoned on the floor.

"Who's Kreature working for now?"

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"Kreature!"

"Kreature!" Two elated voices called out in unison.

Kreature, old and musty as he was in the Ancient House of Black had discovered a new lease on life as it were in the hands of the Weasley twins.

And he hated it.

Clothed now in a onesy rabbit suit due to old traditions of passing house elves between pureblood families, Kreature now spent his days in the bright and cheerful flat above the Weasley's shop, where he was forced to listen to happy, noisy, blustering – _children_ yell for candy and toys for hours on end.

Oh, how he hated it.

"Clean these dishes!" Master one shouted. A glass potion bottle dropped from his hand in the kitchen. Rainbow colored smoke and glitter burst everywhere.

"Iron these socks!" Second master screeched when poor Kreature had filled the sink to scrub at the muck inside it.

A box of joke socks tipped out of a box and ran all over the room.

Kreature sucked in air while staring at the chaotic scene.

"Smile! There's a few muggleborns coming over that absolutely love house elves!"

Kreature's insides squished and folded. He raised his knobby fists to the ceiling and shouted his pain to the world.

"Kreature_. Hates. Sirius. Black_!" Echoed in the crisp air above the streets of Diagon Alley, and the few who heard him and understood just nodded; for who wouldn't hate the Most Notorious Sirius Black?

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Shopping the day before taking the Hogwarts' Express was a hectic time for Harry Potter as Diagon Alley was filled with students searching for books, robes, and other miscellaneous school items that school did or did not require.

The streets up and Diagon Alley looked like sardine cans filled with jostling crowds of black drapes running around.

"I really don't think you should have him out here Sirius, what if someone figures it out? Figures _you _out?" Harry said out the side of his mouth try not to movie his lips.

Every once in a while, someone would notice who he was and gasp, stare, treat him like royalty – he really was sick of the attention.

_I suppose that was the nice thing about having Mrs. Weasley as my personal shopper._

"Harry, stop worrying everything is under control. Lucy is on a leash; it's fine." Remus' lilting voice came from beside him. It was strange to see Remus act so giddy about being around people. Harry awaited the moment of dread when the Polyjuice Potion would where off and Remus would transform into something far from a werewolf. Sirius tended to be just as rank though; the bath tub seemed to have a phobia of water.

The very unhappy man-turned-anteater cradled in Remus' arms would be the most likely cause of horror if anything strange happened on this trip.

"I see why the Order didn't want to let you out of the house." Harry mumbled to himself.

"The same reason you were to stay with your real Uncle right? To protect you. But admit it, this is more fun." The man held the anteater aloft and spun in a circle snickering. God damn his sharper sense of hearing– Remus' wolf abilities or just something Sirius naturally had.

"At least you used Polyjuice Potion this time. You still have an extra dose right?" Harry would need to find an empty back alley if not.

"Oh, stop worrying this is grand! I haven't visited Diagon Alley as a human in Years!" Sirius laughed loudly. People around him backed away quickly and Harry thought he saw a few older students turn pale and back away at the thought of a wild werewolf cavorting through the streets on previous visits.

"Siri – I mean Professor Lupin, wouldn't it have been better to leave your pet anteater at _home_?" Harry said loudly. He leaned in closer to the shabbily dressed professor prepared to scare an unknowing student. "C'mon Sirius. I said you could come with me, but try not to drag Moony's name through mud."

Lupin stood up straighter, startling the younger boy who squeaked and ran down the street. "Of course not Mr. Potter. I need to get Lucy some new feed. He needs to eat ants. I have none at home. He is perfectly safe with me and is complete immobilized through ways I mentioned earlier. Now," He grinned at Harry and waggled a finger, "no more back talk young man, go get your school supplies and do it safely, stay away from any snakes you find!"

Harry grumbled as he was loudly ushered into the first shop on the street, incidentally the pet emporium where Sirius was able to haggle a price for Mr. Malfoy's ants.

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"Hey, I know we were only here for school books, but look at this trunk! It has a separate compartment that a Wizard can fashion a library in." Harry said attempting to get his polyjuiced godfather's attention. The older man seemed to be having a great deal of fun with the transformed Mr. Malfoy.

Harry had to give his godfather a mental pat on the back; a silky anteater was a good off-the-road choice. Mr. Malfoy couldn't bite due to his fused jaw, and he happened to be the size of a small dog. Wizards couldn't do anything normal so Sirius and his pissed off anteater fit in rather well.

If Sirius had not explained the precautions he had taken with Mr. Malfoy, Harry would have worried a lot more. He wondered if the Order knew that Grimmauld place had not exactly been cleared of all the Dark artifacts it had previously contained.

Mr. Malfoy wasn't going anywhere without permission. Soul bindings were pretty nasty.

Harry could just see the disapproving look in Dumbledore's eyes.

Which left his mind a second later when the anteater pissed on Sirius' robes.

The man flicked his pet in the nose and magiced the mess away.

"An expensive gimmick that doesn't actually work. If it did, we would all be living in shoes. You can only safely extend wizarding space by twenty percent. They just advertise it like that for muggle families." Sirius knocked on the leather case and appeared to be listening to the hollow echo.

"That's horrible!"

"Wizard advertising." Sirius shrugged and pulled at Mr. Malfoy's long tail hair issuing a disgruntled squeak from the animal.

"Besides, a trunk is for storage. Living space would require a boat load of extra spells – in the least an air regurgirator charm. Another reason Alastor was in such bad shape. Also, if the spell disconnects your shite out of luck huh? At least if you're in a tent you can still climb out when the size shrinks back to normal."

Harry had the horrible image of dying from suffocation in a trunk being squished to death by books. The kind of death only Hermione could appreciate. He shuddered and stepped away from the expensive piece of luggage. Sirius quickly waved his wand over the trunk and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that there would be a 'surprise' inside waiting for the next person to open it up.

With '_Remus_' helping him shop, time passed by quickly. They were unable to meet up with Ron and Hermione at the twin's shop due to Remus' almost fairy tale like need to abide by clocks and leave the Alley before the final strike of the five'o clock bell.

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In Hermione Granger's life there were only a few moments that she would later in life describe to be so strange that the earth must have frozen over in concert to allow some of these events to happen. They never followed reason as she knew it, and a few times she expected someone in the cosmos took satisfaction in completely spinning her for a loop.

One such event was finding out she had magic. While she would never want to go back to no magic at all she sometimes wished people would stop attacking Hogwarts – _or Harry_, at the end of the year. It put a whole new meaning to studying under pressure.

Another event occurred as she and her parent arrived at the muggle train station where she would say her goodbyes to her parents for the year, promise them grandiose 'fake' letters on her school work – as they did not need to know about the dangers most likely awaiting her this year. It had become a typical yearly event, and she savored going back to school even if it meant she would not see her parents for awhile.

But this quickly derailed into dinner invitations and a chat; while Hermione tried to break up the conversation when her parents had first engaged it to no avail. The longer it lasted the more she believed she was heading toward mental insanity.

Hermione stood off to the side, eyes widening every minute till they could get no bigger, wand slipped into her sleeve waiting for the inevitable moment when the train would derail and she would need to beat his arse the way only an ostracized muggleborn could.

Mr. Malfoy was having a delightful, little sincere chat with her parents, and appeared to be planning a possible dinner and a show outing.

_The hell?_

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"Where is my son, Dipshi– oh, I mean Draco. Draco, are you on the train already?" Mr. Malfoy said as he smacked the train with his cane. It didn't answer back.

Harry watched him with his mouth wide open unable to believe what his senses were telling him. Last he knew Mr. Malfoy was still a silky anteater thwacking Sirius in the head with his tongue when picked up. He was being well fed of course on a diet of nutritional potions spelled straight into his stomach and store bought ants when he would eat, so the tongue slinging seemed to be rude in Harry's opinion.

From the barmy smile Sirius would make when Lucy ate his ants Harry was sure some part of the man's psyche was being beneficially enriched by finally having a pet that wasn't an angry appliance or a depressed hippogriff.

"Oh. Wotcher Harry," Mr. Malfoy exclaimed happily removing his top hat giving a quick bow as he clumsily dashed along the train, a few greasier individuals chasing after him, trying to get his attention.

"Was that– " Harry started unsure if he should continue.

"Tonks? Yes." Hermione said suddenly from behind him. He grinned happily at seeing her and they walked to an empty booth in the train quietly chatting about each of their summers.

"Oh my God! Harry, Hermione!" Ron shouted as he slammed the door open, "I just saw Malfoy's father skipping outside the barrier and hugging a small child!" His face clouded darkly. "He must have been using it as a shield!"

"Tonks." Harry and Hermione said simultaneously.

Ron's eyes widened and shrunk. He let out a breath of disappointment. "Well doesn't that just bite. It would have been much more entertaining had it actually been him."

Harry just smiled as he relaxed into the cusion. The train began to move, slowly at first then picking up speed. Hermione and Ron nattered at each other in the background and he sighed.

_Sirius was right_, this would be a good year.

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_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

_A/N:_ Keep calm and carry a wand.

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**.**

**Blood Rising**

**_V_**

**Of Hands and New Professors**

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"So… Harry, are we starting up the DA again this year?"

It only took five minutes after the Hogwarts express left the station. Harry had figured within two. Over the summer the black haired wizard had thought about it – restarting the DA just didn't seem like a good idea this year.

He looked out the window of the moving train and watched rolling hills in the distance pass by underneath a clear blue sky.

"I dunno. Maybe we'll have a good teacher this year." He sighed with his eyes focused beyond the window.

Hermione quietly snorted and Ron rolled his eyes.

"One out of five is pretty bad Harry." Hermione said pointedly as she flipped through the pages of a book in her lap. A book on runes he noted as the pages of pictographs and hieroglyphs moved.

"Oddly enough, Barty Crouch wasn't that bad." Ron said digging around in his carry-on bag. When he looked back up with a small bag of chocolates and a few trinkets in hand, both Harry and Hermione were staring at him.

"As a teacher, not a person." The red headed Gryffindor defended himself. He popped a chocolate in his mouth and chewed contentedly. The miniature tin horse neighed from his lap as it changed color.

Another piece of chocolate joined the half melted and chewed one. "So?" Ron said with his mouth full.

Hermione flinched at his terrible eating habit and her book closed with a small snap.

"What?" Harry asked, he was back to thinking on the upcoming year. The Gryffindor was really looking forward to Hogwarts but – he was going to miss Sirius. In the school he would have fewer chances to talk with the man he had come to treat as an _almost_ father. He wasn't sure what Sirius was to him and he was not interested in an uncle; Vernon Dursley had already soured that title. Perhaps, it was best that Sirius stay in the murky realm between the two.

"Do you think we'll run the DA again?"

Harry came back to the present and turned to them. With his two best friends staring at him in hopes of a positive answer it was all Harry could do to keep from wincing outwardly.

His name was no longer being shat on by the more popular wizard rags; he could see one-fourth of the school showing up to the first meeting if they did go through with it. Way to many for him to ever coach or even fit into a room – even the room of requirements had limits; forcing most of the school into one room to practice magic on each other just didn't seem like a well thought out plan.

"It really depends on the teacher, like I said." It better be a _freaking_ good one. If not, it would be grounds for strangling someone. Really.

"And if the teacher is good?" Ron piped up.

"If the teacher is good," Harry repeated before finally letting them down easy, " I don't think everyone will want to do it for the actual learning. Sure, the practical experience is nice, but if our professor is a professional, I just don't see a good reason to keep the DA or hold it as often as last year." He could see it being done every few weeks if push came to shove.

Someone in the hallway smacked into their door, causing them to jump. With his face a brilliant shade of green, the younger kid continued to wobble forward toward what Harry suspected to be the nearest bathroom. Poor guy must have been a first year from his size. Harry hoped he brought a bucket to his first flying lesson.

"Harry," Hermione started, his eyes snapped to her face. "Some of us will want to. Ron and I for sure. Probably Neville and Luna – Ginny, a few others."

"Who says we have to reform the DA if it's just those of us who have encountered V-v- you-know-who I mean." Ron said.

Harry perked up; this might be one of Ron's greatest plans yet. Why _not_ have a study group with only their closest friends? _I would kiss him if he wasn't Ron._

Hermione seemed to see the benefits of such a plan as well, her eyes brightened – she looked like she wanted to kiss him as well. Harry sighed. He hope that they would just get together and snog soon.

"Ron, that's brilliant! We know it is going to come down to Harry and Voldemort." She gave Harry a sympathetic look. "Why not start training to get him to that spot? He'll need us." Her eyes glistened with determination.

"I don't want anyone to die for me." He said grumpily folding his arms tightly together. When would they get that through their heads? Someone could have died the last time. They obviously weren't prepared for real world fighting.

"Harry, we aren't dying for you, if we die, it's because the world _needs_ to be a better place. You will need us to get you to him, preferably with your wand casting the final spell." Hermione smiled. His stomach flipped at the thought of ever losing her or Ron. If they were set to go through with this, then he'd have to be the best he could be. A single spell could bring them down. Harry promised himself he would do everything possible to prevent that strike. _Be it with my body or my wand_, he thought grimly.

"No buts mate." Ron said as Harry contemplated the overwhelming step they were about to take. " You need our help. We'll be here for you, and we'll become stronger while the Order keeps him off your back. All of us. We'll take on his Death Eaters before he has time to file those nails of his."

Harry sighed and returned a small smile to two of the greatest people he had ever met. No one else has friends as awesome as mine.

"We're going to end up with a lot of homework this year Ron, most of it based on honesty – no one will know if you don't do it but us and yourself. There won't be any time for fun. Are you okay with that?" Harry's mind jumped from subject to subject of things he would have to cut that he had loved in the past. Would he be able to play Quidditch this year? Damn, would he even have time to sleep?

"Yes," Ron groaned. "I know I'll hate myself for it later, but if it gives Harry– gives all of us a better chance of surviving when we graduate seventh year, I say we do it." Ron said seriously.

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was spent contemplating the upcoming year and what they needed to work on to better themselves for the battle that loomed in the near future. They stayed in their compartment the entire time. The motion sick kid hadn't made it to the bathroom.

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The Sorting Hat Ceremony went better than he had ever seen it go, not counting his own sorting. He hadn't even seen many Sortings due to his _'certain disregard for the rules,'_ but all in all it went pretty well.

Until Dumbledore stood up and his hand fell off.

The clouds above the dining tables thundered in tune to the squealing of the students close to him. A professor Harry had never had up and fainted.

Harry squinted at the shortened arm tying to make out anything different. This past summer Sirius had said that Dumbledore had met with an accident, but this seemed more like he had put his arm in a drain and turned the garbage disposal on.

"Nothing to panic about, nothing to panic about." The Headmaster said trying to get the students to quiet down. Unfortunately, with his handless arm waving in the air so even students in the back could see what was missing.

For the first time, Dumbledore was not in control of the students or even able to pretend that he was. It was rather funny.

Harry snickered when McGonagall held her head in her hands. Snape's dark look at the students was pretty entertaining too – excusing the fact that every house but Slytherin would be at zero house points for the rest of the month. Harry took that moment to examine the staff table for any new faces. There were none, but the chair in between the glowering Snape and the stunned Flitwick was empty.

As he wondered where the New Professor was, Harry noticed the black eyes scowl specifically at him, and he could just image Gryffindor points fleeing in mass exodus from the container of their own inanimate free will.

More confident in himself and defiant at the injustice Snape always tossed his way, Harry nodded and waved back. He would try his best in class but he wasn't going to be trod over like usual when not there. This year, he just didn't care about points; Snape could stick to his petty point-thievery and Harry would move onto bigger and better projects. Like keeping himself alive.

The confused mass of hormones and magic attempted to logically come up with an answer suitable enough to explain why the Headmaster would past for a pirate this coming Halloween. The emotional toil coming to that solution was to much for some of the younger ones; accidental magic flowed in waves down the tables helped by upper year pranksters. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Lee zap some students hair straight up at the other tables.

Someone gasped and pointed beyond the fumbling headmaster, a dark shape had appeared behind the windows getting larger, as if it was coming closer. Harry gripped his wand tightly, the patronus charm on his lips – It could be an incoming dementor. The air hadn't chilled yet, and it wouldn't be able to enter the castle but –

Harry's mouth dropped open and he raised his wand the mass of black impacted and shattered the window. It crashed to the floor and the darkness exploded into an outpouring of smoke. A man's silhouette was visible.

When the smoke cleared Harry's eyes could have popped out of his head. Hermione's moans of _'Oh, god, oh god, oh god,_' summed up his thoughts rather nicely.

"Ben Dover." Sirius shouted to the students, clad in the robes of an auror. "A jolly good to meet you all!"

His godfather made some sort of surprise pose at the podium and blinked when no one cheered or clapped. Students gaped in their seats. At the front of the room he spasmed involuntarily and made a disgusted face. A student at a different table screamed when he reached in his robes then down to the floor. When Sirius came back up his face was the picture of confusion – he had found Dumbledore's hand.

"Here, I believe this belongs to you – oh shit, it just moved! Ick!" Sirius shouted, his arm jerking in surprise. Dumbledore's lost hand flew over the tables causing more than a few students to gasp and scream.

Down the wriggling hand came, landing perfectly on the plate of a second year Hufflepuff who turned and fell off his seat in a dead faint.

The fingers twitched and the girl next to the unconscious boy wielded her Herbology text with deadly accuracy while she screamed the warsong of her ancestors. Down the text book went! Once, _bang_! Twice, _clang_! Thrice!

The book rose up once more in a repetitive motion that could have continued into infinity, an ancient voice cursed over the mayhem.

Students nearby craned their heads to the beating of the dismembered hand and to the face of the headmaster, bouncing back and forth like chocolate frogs between the two. A few of the more roudy students began to clap, and Harry was sure that if Fred and George had been here they would have been crying.

Laughter came from the stage and to no surprise it was Sirius.

"Settle down now! Settle down!" McGonagall's rough Scottish voice echoed around the room due to the magical enhancement of her voice. A quick wave of her wand and the struggling hand landed on the staff's table. Hagrid pulled out a small bird cage which he slammed over the possessed hand.

Dumbledore ducked away from the podium grabbed the cage Hagrid had been carrying around in the castle for a reason Harry couldn't fathom, opened it and appeared to twist it back on.

Unbelievable. Now that everyone had given in to their first knee-jerk reaction to a hand sailing like a fat pigeon through the air, everyone stared up at the podium and staff table with varying degrees of bewilderment. The criminal Sirius Black was still standing at the staff table after all.

When Dumbledore was finished righting himself, he shoved his hand into a pocket and coughed embarrassedly. The pink flush left his face and he resumed his speech.

"As I was just about to say, before that untimely interruption; as is typical of the new school year, you have a new defense against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore waggled his left hand over at Sirius; who Harry hoped to a higher deity had a good explanation for being seen by everyone in Hogwarts. Gossip flew on swift feathered wings to parents after all.

All eyes turned to his godfather and a few gasps popped up from the tables.

"You'd think they would be tired of doing that." Ron whispered loudly when a few students screamed. He rested his head in one hand and groaned.

Sirius waved over at them.

Harry sunk down into the bench his spine tingling. Hermione blanched while Ron just sighed and laid his head on the table; as if to afraid to watch the upcoming arrest.

Sirius strode confidently to the podium and adjusted his red robes. "I am here for two very important reasons! As you know, there has been a serious lack of good defense professors! The last being a flea-covered werewolf who sucks on the tea dregs at the bottom of the cup. Abomination! To experienced tea drinkers everywhere!" He boomed out like an old TV sitcom general. His eyes sparkled mischievously, he was in his element.

"Professor Lupin was awesome!" Someone shouted in the silence. Possibly a Ravenclaw?

Sirius chuckled lightly.

"Yes, but that does not stop him from being a lousy person to chat up for afternoon tea. Second! I am here to protect you!" He brandished his wand and pointed it at the students as if searching for hidden enemies.

"Oh, this is going to be good." Ron muttered from the tablecloth.

"Yes! I am here to protect you all, from that murderer still at large! The Notorious Sirius Black! That devilishly handsome evil man!" Sirius whipped his wand through the air and a giant mug shot of himself appeared above him.

The photo Sirius did his usual bitter laughing, only this time it also flipped the bird – mostly to the other side of the room where the Slytherins were gawking from.

"Hey! You kind of look like him!" A scared, shrill voice called out. A Ravenclaw stood up and dashed for the entry way followed by students of the other tables.

The doors in front of them slammed closed and in the mounting fearful murmurs, Sirius spelled his voice louder and sniffed dramatically.

Miraculously, the hubbub quieted.

"Tragic isn't it? This is one story you ought to hear before the rest of the auror department is set onto me." Sirius moaned sadly. "This face I have? It isn't mine. I was commissioned to sniff out and capture Sirius Black as per the British Ministry a few months ago."

He paused and choked a bit on fake tears. "What no one bothered to tell me about the most notorious Sirius Black is that he was- is quite an old hand when it comes to being amazingly good-looking and a master at certain school subjects. When I was captured he ripped off my face and traded it with his. Some sort of evil, genius face-swapping potion. A master at potions he must have been. Terrible it was."

"What does the new one look like, Mr. Dover? Your old face, I mean – no offence." Empathy filled the student's voice and Harry gawked at the others around him. They were eating it up like cake sitting in front of a starved child. _Bloody hell._

Ron looked like fish on land and Hermione grimaced and rubbed her temples. A few of the muggleborns seem to have a hard time accepting the story. Indoctrination into wizard logic started young for everybody – sure some muggleborns would have trouble believing it, but they were young and Harry was sure that as long as Sirius didn't kill anyone at the school he would be fine.

"A good idea." Sirius smiled as he whipped out a delicate scroll from his robes and unfurled it for all the students to see, enlargening it as it floated up into the air.

The students murmured as they committed the face to memory.

"Hey, that kinda looks like Professor Snape." Seamus said as he cocked his head to the side.

"But Snape wouldn't be caught dead with a mustache like that. The unibrow maybe, but the mustache is so –"

"I've always sort of wondered what he'd look like bald. It's scarier than when he has hair." Seamus whispered, eyes mesmerized by the image.

"Sirius Black's mug is an improvement. Kudos to Professor Dover getting the better deal here." Dean said.

Neville nodded distractedly.

Sirius grinned as the hall assimilated the picture. A haze of promised death slowly drifted toward the students emanating from the staff table. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck lifted up and he searched the room for the furious person exuding it. He choked back a laugh and gasped.

Harry quickly punched Ron in the shoulder.

"Owch, Harry! You bastard, what was that for?" Ron yelped as he rubbed the spot tenderly.

Feeling as though his face was about to rip apart if he spoke, Harry pointed at a certain someone at the staff table.

"Wow. Well, look who wet his knickers. Guess everyone but the Slytherins will have negative points by the end of the year. Think Si- _Professor Ben Dover_ will be dead by morning?"

At 'knickers' Harry couldn't contain his laughter anymore and the dam burst.

* * *

_TBC..._


End file.
